


Until The Stars Are All Alight

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/7804.html?thread=20844924#t20844924">Jim Kirk/Pike: time travel - Kirk stumbles upon cadet!Pike -- perhaps shortly after the destruction of the <i>USS Kelvin</i>.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Until The Stars Are All Alight

**Author's Note:**

> All Thanks To/Title Source: [](http://lomedet.livejournal.com/profile)[**lomedet**](http://lomedet.livejournal.com/) *wave* and [](http://blue-hobbit.livejournal.com/profile)[**blue_hobbit**](http://blue-hobbit.livejournal.com/) whose icons [here](http://community.livejournal.com/schnupperthings/16515.html) helped inspire this little tale and its title (from a verse by Tolkien).

Title: Until The Stars Are All Alight  
Fandom: Star Trek XI  
Rating: Light R  
Pairing: Pike/Jim Kirk, George &amp; Winona Kirk mentioned extensively.   
Content Advisory: Canon character death, offscreen sex and onscreen kissing.   
_Disclaimer:_ None of these characters or their settings belong to me.

Christopher Pike catches his breath, a guest in the quarters that were his so briefly, sitting in the chair and at the desk he'd thought he'd have for at least five more years. Jim is kneeling graciously between his thighs, as if the _Enterprise_ weren't leaving in ten hours for her first mission under Captain Kirk. Weighed down by more than simple physical satisfaction, Pike feels he could sit here forever, precisely because he knows he can't. "I should tell you something," he says at length, running his fingers slowly through Jim's hair.

Jim smudges knuckles across his wet mouth and smiles up with reddened lips. "Some final piece of captainly wisdom?"

"Nothing so profound." Pike rubs his fingers down Jim's neck, over the strong muscles and submerged bumps of spine. "Just a story about the first time I saw you."

Jim slings his arm across Pike's lap, skin warm on skin, as he makes a teenager's annoyed face. "What, did I burp up on you? Did my mom make you change my diaper?"

Pike snorts obligingly. "Actually, I estimate you were about ten years older than you are now, depending on how kind the years will be to you."

Jim's eyes flare wide, and he adds the other arm and rests his chin on his crossed forearms. "This should be good," he murmurs, and Pike holds his gaze and starts telling.

*****

 

Chris needed to stop drinking. He could tell because his eyes hurt, because all he wanted to do was literally cry into his whiskey. He pictured it, tears plunking into the clear brown liquid, maybe a little snot too if he really let himself go, and the mental image twisted his lips wryly. And prompted him to take another swallow.

"It's pretty nostalgic to find you in a bar," he heard behind him, in a warm familiar voice, "but aren't you out of uniform?" Chris swung around belligerently, because by tomorrow he officially _wouldn't_ be a cadet anymore, and --

"_George?_" The man shrugged, his smile bright and apologetic. No, his hair was too fair even in the low bar light, his lips a little fuller. And George was _dead_, he'd died a hero and Chris's messages to Winnie had all bounced, and this man who looked heartrendingly like George was shaking his head.

"Nope, Cadet Pike," said not-George, "just me, but I know who you thought I was."

"You look too fucking much like him," Chris snarled, because he _did_. Not-George nodded, his generous mouth twisting, old pain in his bright blue eyes, George's eyes. "Who are you, his brother? His evil twin?"

"Close," said not-George. "But you don't really want to know. Come take a walk with me." Chris glared, and the bright grin just widened. "Take a leap without looking. I _dare_ you."

Chris slid off the stool intending to punch George's face off this impostor, but his heels hit the floor unevenly, and he rocked forward into not-George's side, leaning too much into the strong arm slid smoothly around his waist. "Got a name, then?"

"That," said not-George infuriatingly, "is for you to find out." He tapped Chris's nose with his index finger, and Chris tried to grab his wrist and caught only air. "So you've always been hot when you're irritated," he said, half-carrying Chris around tables and patrons, his broad hand hot through Chris's shirt. "God, you're cute now. You're going to grow up into a sexy bastard, you know. And a hell of a Starfleet officer."

Chris was about to yell at the guy for talking like he was from the future, but first he had to snort at that last comment. "You've got the wrong Pike, then. I'm leaving tomorrow. I can't do this."

"Yes, actually, you can." Cool San Francisco air slapped Chris in the face, and he blinked at the man who looked so much like George but wasn't as they turned the corner and headed down that block. "You can and you will."

"Really?" Every so often a cadet died in an accident, or more rarely washed out in final fashion, but George was the first friend Chris had lost in the line of duty, and the dearest he never wanted to lose. If he was going to come apart like this each time someone died... "It won't be much of a career anyway if I drink my way through."

"Shit, kid, forgive yourself for being human. And you don't know how weird it is to call _you_ kid." A bench hit Chris in the hip, and as he swore not-George dragged him around and sat them both down, still holding him tightly. "Look, I could give you a rousing speech and all that crap, but we know better." His eyes lit up like George's had when he got worked up about something, and Chris couldn't look away. "If you stay you can find out what the hell happened to the _Kelvin_, what he died for. Don't even say it," when Chris inhaled to object. "You know you need to. And you have to, since one day you're going to tell me."

Chris opened his mouth, but he'd never been able to argue with the certainty in those blue eyes, and his face burned against the chilly air under that smile. "Okay," he muttered. "I don't believe your future bullshit, but okay."

Not-George looked delighted to be disbelieved. "Wait until it's my present bullshit," he said, and looked up. The night sky over them was cloudy, but he smiled at it anyway. "Starfleet's where you belong, Christopher Pike," he said softly, and while Chris was still looking up at swirling clouds, the man tugged him close and kissed him. His mouth was warm and even more tender than it looked, lips parting Chris's with soft pressure, tongue licking in past Chris's nominal defenses and flicking over his so sensually he flushed hot from temples to toes, hardening so fast he could feel the blood drain from his brain to fill his dick. He moaned, and not-George moaned in return and nipped his lower lip very gently as he pulled back.

Chris collapsed against the bench, blood racing and brain fogged just from one kiss, as the man with his dead friend's face smiled at him with wet red lips and stood up. "See you around, Pike," he said, and walked away until the mist hid him. Chris sat there, skin flushed hot under the damp air, and when he could think again made a mental note to find out if Winona Kirk's baby was a boy.

*****

 

"I always knew that, 'I read your file while you were drooling on the floor' was so much bullshit," Jim says, eyes sparkling with glee. "You knew who I was."

"I've always known who you were," Pike replies, more sincerely than is entirely wise.

Jim ducks, pressing his grin to Pike's thigh. "I'll try to be worth remembering," he mutters, and kisses him there, an oval of damp heat. "Come to bed with me."

"You know I can't do that." Pike sets his hands on Jim's shoulders, feeling the curves of hard muscle, telegraphing the push. "I should've left already. I can't be here when the crew arrive--"

Jim looks up, and that particularly inviting smile is going to advance Starfleet diplomacy across the galaxy, until it gets Jim into something deep enough to drown him. "Just for a few hours, okay? Come to bed. Can't you feel her hum around us?" Like his own heartbeat, Pike doesn't say; Jim nods knowingly anyway. "Besides, if you're in a storytelling mood..." Jim's eyes are so open, so like George's. "Tell me about my father?"

Pike's never been able to deny those blue eyes. He nods as he watches Jim unfold upwards, and lets Jim help him to his feet.


End file.
